directly the moment he was spotted. Under no circumstances were

they to hit Kanno. If he was spotted, they were instructed to keep

him under surveillance and not to get too close. And now there was

this meeting with Fugisawa this evening. It was all becoming clear.

His father had cut another deal with Fugisawa. He would help

the authorities find Kanno and take the credit for his capture. In

return, they would give him credit for assisting them and

discovering the identity of the killer. The favorable publicity he

would receive as a result would make him look good and would

impress his superiors on the council. Instead of losing face, he

would come out of the whole thing with his stature in the

organization greatly enhanced. And the arrangement Shiro had

made with Nishikawa would all come to nothing. He could simply

kiss all that money good-bye.

The one slim hope he’d had that Morpheus would exact

retribution for the attempt upon his life was also fading. Fugisawa

was apparently in contact with him and when he’d called, Shiro

heard his father telling him, almost pleading with him to convince

Morpheus that he’d had nothing to do with the attempt to kill him.

He claimed that it had all been a mistake, that the men had acted

on their own, and that he would do anything he could to make it

right. And the meeting tonight was part of that. Morpheus would

be there, along with Fugisawa. Shiro was certain that he knew

exactly what would happen.

His father would pay Morpheus off. Morpheus would leave Japan.

Then, with him out of the way, his father and Fugisawa would

work together to bring Kanno in. Shiro swore softly to himself.

That damned cop should have been a Yakuza himself. He was a

diabolical manipulator. The Yakuza would do his work for him in

return for Fugisawa’s helping his father to save face with the

members of the council. Kanno would be caught, Fugisawa would

show up the Bureau and get a big promotion. Damn him!

But there was still one chance. One chance to save his deal with

Nishikawa. He glanced at the table. There was a black leather

briefcase on it, his father’s briefcase, monogrammed with his

initials. Shiro had filled it with papers giving details of Yakuza

criminal operations his father was in charge of. He had taken a big